


trying to light up the dark

by midnights



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blizzards & Snowstorms, Christmas, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Lights, Christmas Morning, Christmas Music, Cold Weather, Falling In Love, Fluff, Getting to Know Each Other, Mutual Pining, Pajamas & Sleepwear, Pining, Post-Break Up, Sharing Clothes, Sleepovers, Snow, Strangers to Lovers, Trains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-16
Updated: 2014-12-16
Packaged: 2018-03-01 17:12:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2781158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnights/pseuds/midnights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>when zayn's train gets stuck on christmas eve, he ends up spending the holiday with an extremely attractive stranger.</p><p>ft. a trip through the woods, an accidental swim in a frozen creek, and a substantial amount of flirting and pining.</p>
            </blockquote>





	trying to light up the dark

**Author's Note:**

> this fic was really, really self-indulgent, as i saw a manip and really wanted to write some ziam. i had a lot of fun writing this, and i was too impatient to get it beta'd, so forgive me for any spelling mistakes. otherwise, enjoy!! and come hmu on [tumblr](http://harryindallas.tumblr.com/)
> 
> title is from adam levine's "lost stars"
> 
>  
> 
> **this is REALLY HEAVILY based off of maureen johnson's "The Jubilee Express", so credit where credit is due.**
> 
>    
>  **also: this is a work of fiction. all personalities are based off of interviews and videos, and i don't intend to imply anything about the behavior of the boys off-screen. ******
> 
> **author's note as of 11/20/16: this work is complete, and does not have a continuation of the ending. (it's a happy ending, don't worry!)**

It was supposed to be a nice, calming, and relaxing Christmas Eve.

Of course, things couldn't have just gone the way Zayn had planned them, of course not.

That would've been too easy.

Before everything went wrong, though, Zayn sat on his couch, mug of guilty pleasure ginger peach tea in hand, in his favorite Christmas sweater, on the phone with Louis. They were discussing Louis's annual Christmas Eve/Birthday party that would be starting at eight.

“Have you got the pies?” Zayn asks. He’d told Louis to get the pies multiple times.

“ _Yes_ , Zee, I got the pies.” Zayn hears Louis sigh.

“Good.”

On the other line, Zayn hears the door open, and someone’s loud and clunky footsteps approach Louis and his phone. “Harry’s here,” Louis starts. “in quite possibly the _ugliest_ Christmas sweater I’ve ever seen, congratulations, babe.”

Zayn laughs, laying his head back. “How bad is it?” He asks.

“Well, there are multiple reindeer, a substantial amount of snowflakes, and quite a few large, multi-colored Christmas lights. Does that answer your question?” Louis asks, and his voice resonates through Zayn’s empty living room.

“Yeah, I think it does.” Zayn nods, though he knows Louis can’t see it.

“What did you say ol’ Yaser and Tricia were doing tonight?” He hears Harry ask.

Zayn takes a sip of his tea. “They’re picking Doniya up from school, as she didn’t want to miss the parade this morning. I was supposed to watch Safaa and Waliyha, but they wanted to go with my parents.”

“Why would they want to take the plane ride to some little town in Pennsylvania?” Louis asks.

“Dunno. Maybe they didn’t want me to watch them.” Zayn suggests, and he hears Harry and Louis laughing.

Zayn smiles when he hears the sound of their laughter through the phone. His two best friends have been together for almost a year, but they’d been dancing around the subject of their affection for each other for much longer, so it always made Zayn feel good to see them (or, in this case, _hear_ them) happy together. They’d gotten together on New Year’s Eve of last year, right in Zayn’s living room, as the clock struck midnight.

“It’s almost your anniversary, isn’t it, lovebirds?” Zayn smiles to himself.

There’s a pause on the other line, and Zayn would bet every decoration on his family’s artificial Christmas tree that they’re kissing. “Yep. A little over a week.” Louis says.

“Well, good for you two. I’ll just hang in the corner tonight, while everyone couples up, in hopes that he’ll call.” Zayn gives an over-exaggerated sigh.

“Zayn.” Louis says. “If you’re serious right now, I’m confiscating your phone as soon as you get to my house. You are not waiting for Asshole Grim- sorry, _Aiden_ Grimshaw to call you on your anniversary. You split up two months ago!”

“Lou, I was kidding, chill out. What time am I supposed to be getting to your place, anyway?” Zayn asks.

There’s murmuring on the other line, and then Louis comes back. “Seven thirty, with the cookies. Did you pick up the cookies?”

Zayn glances in the kitchen, where a platter of nutty shortcake snowmen-shaped cookies sits on the counter. “Yep, in the kitchen, waiting for a glass of milk to be eaten with. Listen, I’ve got a book to start, can I call you back when I’m on my way to your house?”

“Yeah, of course.” Louis says. “See you later Zayn!”

“Bye Zaynie!” Harry calls.

Zayn laughs. “Later, lovebirds.”

He ends the call and slides his phone back into his jeans with the minimal amount of effort possible (the tightness of his jeans and the angle of his body make it hard to put things in his pockets, okay?). Reaching for his book, Zayn takes another sip of his tea and groans as his phone rings again. He wiggles around until he can get it out of his pocket, and looks at the caller. It’s his mom, Tricia. He remembers taking the photo that comes up when she calls. It was in Philly, on the day they took Doniya back to school. Smiling at the thought, Zayn answers his mom’s call.

“Hey, Mom, how was the flight?” Zayn asks. He’s such a good son, it astonishes him sometimes.

“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry.” Tricia says, sounding teary.

“Mom?” Zayn’s eyebrows furrow. “What’s wrong?” He asks quickly.

He hears his mother sigh. “I don’t think we’re going to make it home in time for Christmas, love.”

“What? Why not? What’s going on?” Zayn presses.

“Flights are delayed until tomorrow, a _huge_ snowstorm is about to hit the whole east coast.” Tricia explains.

“So… what am I supposed to do?” Zayn asks.

“We’ve called your grandparents, you’re going to go and stay with them, Zayn.” He hears his father’s deep voice on the other line.

Zayn can feel his face drop. “In _Florida_?”

“ _Yes_ , in Florida.” Yaser says sharply. “We already bought your tickets online, just print it out and bring it to the train station. Your train leaves in forty five minutes.”

“I- okay, yeah. I’ll go pack my things, then.” Zayn says, feeling like his balloon of holiday cheer has been popped in a very violent way.

“Call us when you’re on the train, alright?” Tricia asks, her voice worried.

Zayn stands, putting his tea on the coffee table in front of him. “Yeah, will do. Bye, Mom.” He says softly.

Ending the call before he can hear anything else sobering, Zayn heads up to his room, where he fills a backpack with what he’ll need for the holiday: t-shirts, socks, boxers, one pair of jeans and one pair of khakis, and the like. When his bag is packed, Zayn throws on a jacket and pulls on a pair of boots. He almost forgets to grab his book, but it catches his eye on his way through the living room, and he shoves it into his bag. The keys to the car are hanging on their usual hook, and Zayn doesn’t hesitate to grab them.

A half hour later, Zayn is stepping on his train, ticket in hand and bag on his back. His cheeks are red and cold from waiting on the platform for the train, and his lips are chapped and burning. The snow has already left a layer on the ground, and his boots leave prints on the train floor. He chooses to stay on the first floor of the train, as the second is beds and he doesn’t really feel like sleeping.

It takes a few minutes to find an empty compartment, but Zayn finds one a few cars down and settles himself in it. There’s a complimentary blanket waiting for him on the seat, so after fishing his book out of his bag, Zayn pushes up the armrests and lays down across the seats.

Zayn only gets through a few chapters before he’s drifting into sleep, lulled by the melodic sounds and constant, soft wobbling of the train.

Of course, that only lasts for so long.

About ten minutes into Zayn’s nap, a stranger slides open the compartment door. Zayn’s eyes shoot open, and he looks up at whoever’s woken him up. It’s a relatively tall man, with kind brown eyes, brown hair, an embarrassed smile, and a jawline that looks like it’s been carved from marble. He’s got on a red and green flannel shirt, jeans, and a tan peacoat over it.

“D’you mind if I sit? Everywhere else is full, and I didn’t much feel like laying in a cot.” The stranger says in a voice like melting chocolate.

Zayn clears his throat and sits up, leaning against the wall of the compartment, bringing his knees to his chest, “No, go ahead.”

The smile on this boy’s face is so warm and genuine it makes Zayn want to hug him. “Thanks.”

Zayn watches as he sits across from him, not close enough to be creepy, but not far enough to be rude. The boy looks out the window, watching as the snow falls. There must be a lot of snow by now, it’s been going steadily for almost two hours now, and he’s been on the train for almost an hour.

“Hang on… if you weren’t in a compartment, where were you?” Zayn eyes him suspiciously.

Another embarrassed smile splits the boy’s face, and he reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a bag of M&Ms. “I was in the food car, I hadn’t eaten since lunchtime. Want some?” He offers up the bag, and Zayn holds out his hand.

“Sure.” Zayn laughs quietly.

The boy pours a few M&Ms into Zayn’s outstretched hand; Zayn pops an orange one and a blue one into his mouth. “I’m Liam, by the way.”

Zayn laughs again. “I’m Zayn, nice to meet you.” They shake hands.

“There is a _horrifyingly_ loud group of girls in the snack car, four of which tried to hit on me.” Liam says, sounding traumatised. “In five minutes.” He shivers, and Zayn laughs.

The compartment door is opened yet again, but this time by a kind old lady with gray hair and smile lines at the corners of her eyes. She’s pushing a cart that holds blankets stacked high. “Hello, dears. Either of you need a blanket?”

“I think I’ll take one, thanks.” Liam stands, and the lady hands him a fluffy blue blanket, just like Zayn’s. “How much?” Liam reaches into his pocket and takes out his wallet, but the lady puts her hand over his.

“No charge, dear. Have a wonderful holiday.” The lady smiles and starts walking.

“You too!” Liam calls after her.

With another heart-warming smile, Liam sits down (directly across from Zayn this time) and spreads the blanket over himself. Zayn watches him as he watches outside the window, his eyes flicking all over the landscape they’re passing. He’s attractive, no doubt. Thick eyebrows, defined cheekbones, a bit of stubble, a few cute little birthmarks. Though he’s in multiple layers, Zayn has no doubt that he’s fit.

Aiden was attractive too. His face was fuller than Liam’s, but not any less pleasing. Aiden was a lot more… delicate-looking than Liam. It’s not really right for Zayn to be comparing them this way, but here he is. He wonders if Liam smells as good as Aiden always smelled. Speaking of Aiden… Zayn checks his phone. No calls.

“What’re you doing for the holidays?” Liam asks, snapping Zayn out of his little daze.

Zayn clears his throat. “Well, my religion doesn’t really celebrate Christmas, but my _family_ does. My mother really enjoys decorating the house and everything, and so do the rest of us, so it’s not really a problem.” He explains.

“Yeah, I get it. I was heading home from my grandma’s, I always go to see her on Christmas Eve.” Liam says. “I was supposed to be on a three o’clock train home, but she took me out to dinner, and now here we are. I’m the next stop: Gracetown. We’re probably close now.”

“Well, you’ve got a good excuse, your grandmother wanted to wine and dine you for Christmas.”

A loud, beautiful laugh bubbles out of Liam’s mouth. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I’ll tell to my mom.”

“Good idea, I highly advise it.” Zayn laughs, too.

“I’m not really sure how that would- _oof_!”

Liam is cut off by the train slowing dramatically, and throwing him into Zayn’s lap. The lights flicker a few times, and then go out. The wheels protest loudly as they drag down the track for a minute, and then they stop, hard. All down the train, Zayn hears luggage falling down from their racks, and people falling from where they stood. After a few seconds, the lights go back on one by one, and a voice comes over the speaker.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re experiencing some difficulties, and we’re going to need to make some changes to conserve power. If you have extra layers, you may want to put them on now.” A woman’s voice says.

Zayn and Liam look at each other, and in the position they’re in, and then Liam slowly moves out of Zayn’s lap and into his previous seat, clearing his throat to break the silence. Wiping off the fog that’s built up, Zayn peers out the window. They’d stopped next to some sort of highway, and across that highway, was a diner. The snow’s making it hard to see, but Zayn is able to make out that it says “Waffle House.”

Standing, Zayn holds up a finger to Liam and peeks out of their compartment. He steps into the corridor and makes his way to the end of the car. The door is frozen into place, but Zayn hits it with his shoulder, and it opens with a creaking sound. Cold air floods inside, along with a pile of snow that lands on Zayn’s foot. He shakes it off, and looks outside.

There’s about eight inches of snow on the ground, but there’s forecasted to be a lot more. A few hundred yards away lies the highway, and across from that, the Waffle House. It’s too far to see inside the diner, but the lights are clearly on, and there’s a 24 hour sign sticking out of the snow. Stepping back inside, Zayn shuts the door and makes his way back to his compartment.

Liam is nowhere to be found, but his bag and blanket are still there, meaning he hasn’t just skipped out on Zayn. He comes back before Zayn’s even sat down, and tells Zayn where he’s been.

“Right, so the conductor says the engine got too cold or something like that, and that this train isn’t going anywhere any time soon, so.” Liam says.

Zayn looks out the window, at the Waffle House in the distance. “Well… we could go to the Waffle House.” He suggests.

“Waffle House?” Liam’s eyebrows furrow. “What Waffle House?”

“Look,” Zayn taps the window, pointing at the diner in the distance. “Waffle House.”

“And you think we should go?” Liam asks.

“Well, I mean- we don’t have to- I just-... I just thought it’d be warmer,” Zayn says, embarrassed.

Liam shakes his head, smiling. “No, no, it’s a good idea. Let’s do it.”

After he grabs his things, Zayn shoves the blanket into his bag. Who knows? He might need it inside the diner. The storm is supposed to get worse as the night progresses.

“No, don’t put it in your bag,” Liam says, grabbing his own blanket and putting it on like a cloak, with it wrapped on his head and draped over his bag and back. “Put it like this. It’ll keep your head warm, and your bag won’t get all wet. Probably.”

Zayn laughs and wraps the blanket around himself. He feels like an old woman. Sliding the compartment door open, Liam steps into the corridor with Zayn following him close behind. The two of them make their way to the door, where Liam opens it and holds his hand out for Zayn to go first. Cold air hits Zayn like a slap in the face, and another pile of snow falls on his shoes.

Tentatively, Zayn takes a small step forward.

And then he jumps into a foot of snow.

Across the highway, the Waffle House waits for them. The sound of Liam jumping to the ground is the only one Zayn can hear besides the wind howling in his ears. He draws the blanket tighter to himself, looks back at Liam, who nods, and starts walking. They’ve not even made it two feet before Zayn trips over a set of train tracks. Liam doesn’t even laugh at him, he just checks that he’s okay and keeps walking.

The highway is ethereally empty, a vision of pale pewter-pink skies, glowing streetlights, and falling snow. It would be beautiful if it weren’t so goddamn cold. If Zayn survives this storm, this’ll be a good story for his sisters: the time he crossed a six lane highway in the frigid snow with a blanket over his head. Zayn rolls his eyes at his own thoughts. He sounds like Harry.

Speaking of Harry… the party’s already started, he and Louis must be wondering why he’s not there yet. Zayn should call Louis once they get inside. They’re probably having loads of fun, drinking, dancing, and exchanging gifts. And Zayn’s walking across a highway in a foot of snow.

Neither of them say a word as they cross the highway, too focused on reaching the little diner that, though they keep walking, doesn’t seem to be getting any closer. They make it there in a little less than ten minutes, and Zayn trips yet again when he approaches the door. Apparently there’s a step there.

An _open_ sign is hung on the door, and the windows are fogged up with heat. Zayn can see faded red leather booths, a few tables, and a bar at the far end. There are only two or three people inside.

He takes one frigid hand out from under his blanket cloak, and reaches for the cold, metal door handle. He pulls it open and steps into the glorious warmth of the diner. A loud, relieved sigh falls from Zayn’s mouth as he pulls the blanket off his back and shakes some of the snow off of it. He and Liam make their way over to a booth and collapse in the seats.

Zayn looks around. Sitting at the counter is a man, probably in his sixties, reading the paper and drinking a coffee. There’s a Santa hat on his head, and plastic bag next to him. Poking out of the bag, is what appears to be the sleeve of a red jacket, with white fur on the cuff. Zayn snorts.

“D’you see ‘Santa’ over there?” Zayn asks, tilting his head towards the counter. Liam nods, a smile splitting his flushed face. “I guess kids were pretty bad this year, if Santa’s done this early.”

Liam laughs as the only waiter in sight, a short, fit boy with blonde tips approaches them. “Dunno what the fuck you’re doin’ out in this weather,” He has a thick Irish accent. “But everything’s on the house tonight. Orders from the acting manager. Which is, at the moment, me.” Zayn looks at his name tag; it says Niall. “Right, what can I get you lads to drink?”

“I’ll have a coffee, I think.” Liam says, offering up a smile.

“I’ll have one too, thanks. And a plate of hash browns, as well, please.” Zayn says.

Niall doesn’t even write it down, just vaults himself over the counter and pours them drinks. He’s walking over with them in seconds. With a murmured thanks, Zayn slides his coffee closer to himself and wraps his cold hands around the warm mug. It burns a bit, but it feels wonderful at the same time.

“So,” Liam says, pouring a packet of sugar in his coffee. “What’s our plan here?” He asks, and it sounds so much like something Aiden would’ve said that it makes Zayn’s chest hurt.

He wonders what Aiden is doing now, if he’s at a party or if he’s spending the holiday with his dad, like he used to. Two Christmases were spent with Aiden, the first being the literal day after they kissed, and the second was spent cuddling in front of the fire at Aiden’s dad’s after Zayn had been with his family all day.

Liam must notice that his face drops, because he gets this adorable, concerned look, and says, “Hey, you okay?” in the sweetest, most genuine voice Zayn’s ever heard.

“I-” Zayn clears his throat. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just thinking of someone.” Once again, Zayn takes his phone out of his pocket to see if he got any texts or missed any calls. None.

Liam seems to understand, because he nods and doesn’t ask any more questions. Grateful for this, Zayn turns his head to the window. He can still see the lights of the train; it’s in the same spot as when they left it, and it seems to be snowing even harder than before. There’s no way he’s getting down to Florida in weather like this.

When he expresses this to Liam, he says, “Well… you can stay with me,” He suggests. “I mean- uh, at my family’s house.”

“No,” Zayn shakes his head. “I really can’t.”

Niall comes over with their hashbrowns and places them in the middle of Liam and Zayn. Both of them grab a fork and begin stuffing their faces.

He couldn’t ask Liam to provide him a place to stay, absolutely not. Not on Christmas. It’s just plain rude of him. Liam probably doesn’t really want him to stay with him, either, he’s just being nice.

“Well, I’m not letting you stay on that godforsaken train, that’s for sure.” Liam frowns. “But what other options do you have, exactly?”

“It’s not fair, I can’t ask you to take me in on Christmas Eve, Liam. Your family doesn’t need an extra child. Not tonight. Plus, you don’t even know me. I could be an axe murderer or something.” Zayn says with a full mouth, shaking his head.

Liam points his fork at him, and a piece of hash brown flies off his fork and lands on the table. “Listen here, pal. My mother would actually beat me with a wooden spoon if I didn’t take you in on Christmas Eve. Look, here are my credentials.”

Liam reaches into his wallet and pulls out a license, which Zayn squints at. Then, Liam drops the license on the table and begins fishing through his wallet for other identifications. There’s a picture in his wallet, of a pretty girl with full lips and long dark hair. Her and Liam are laughing at something. Zayn draws his gaze back to the employee I.D. card Liam has now shoved in his face, and laughs.

“Alright, Liam James Payne. I’ll come with you.” Zayn grins.

Liam’s cheeks turn pink. “You saw that, huh?”

“Zayn Javaad Malik, nice to officially meet you.” Zayn says, shoving a bite of hash brown into his mouth.

“Hm,” Liam cocks his head. “Sounds very professional, like you should be famous or something.”

“Well, I haven’t got any talents. ‘cept for piano and singing, I suppose, but I only sing in the shower nowadays.” Zayn shrugs.

“I could be your agent, I’m going to school for music management and merchandising.” Liam raises his eyebrows, and Zayn laughs.

“Let’s get to LA, then, what’re we waiting for?”

“Waiting for you do decide if you’ll let me give you a place to stay tonight!” Liam laughs.

Zayn cocks his head. “I told you I would, I said it like two minutes ago.”

“Oh. Right.” Liam takes another bite of hash brown and looks outside again.

Zayn follows his gaze. Snow is still steadily falling; it’s beginning to look like a Christmas card out there. Zayn checks his phone; no call. And then suddenly, something occurs to him.

“Liam,” He says slowly.

“Yeah?” Liam turns to look at him.

“How exactly are we getting to your house?”

“Right… well… seeing as I don’t have a car… we’re walking.” Liam says, squeezing his eyes shut tight like something’s about to explode. When Zayn doesn’t say anything, he opens his eyes and cocks his head. “Is that… okay?”

Zayn sighs, long and loud. “Yeah, yeah. C’mon, we should get going. The sooner I can put on my pajamas, the better.”

“Yeah, just after one more dish, okay? Food keeps you warm, and we’re gonna need it.” Liam says, looking over at Niall, the waiter.

Zayn nods as Niall begins making his way over. When he gets there, Liam orders a plate of fries, and Niall runs back into the kitchen to whip up their order. It’s in front of them in minutes, and the two of them devour it with copious amounts of ketchup and salt, and then pull their coats on and get ready to leave. They give Niall a big thank you and wish him a merry Christmas, set up their blanket-cloaks, and then push through the glass doors and head outside into the cold air.

“Right,” Zayn hears Liam say from somewhere to his left; the blanket-cloak’s “hood” prevents him from looking to either side. “We’ve got to go around the back, my house is that way, so go left.”

Zayn follows his instructions, stepping through the snow carefully. It’s strangely sticky under his feet, making it hard to push through it. The sky is still that same pewter-pink, that strange color that only happens when it’s snowing. They reach the back of the diner, where a small back road lit only by the occasional flashing traffic light leads into a neighborhood (at least, that’s what Liam says).

Every step is harder than the last; Zayn’s legs become so cold they start to feel warm. They walk in the center of the road again, like some post-apocalyptic movie scene. Neither of them talk much, because talking would waste precious energy. When they get into the little neighborhood, Liam offers Zayn two options.

“We could go the long way, which is- well, _longer_ , or we could take the shortcut, bu -”

“Shortcut, I don’t even care about whatever you’re going to say, we’ll get to your house quicker.” Zayn says, sounding a little winded.

Liam doesn’t say anything, so Zayn assumes they’re taking the shortcut. He looks around. The houses are average-sized, beautifully decorated suburban houses. Almost every one has a string of lights hung on the roof, and there are quite a few LED reindeer on people’s snow-covered lawns. It’s a picture perfect little neighborhood, and if the skin wasn’t being blown off Zayn’s cheeks by the wind, he might’ve taken a picture.

“So,” Liam says briskly. “What t-town did you say you were from?”

“Aeltown, j-just an hour or so North.” Zayn says, but he has to almost yell it to be heard. His teeth are chattering violently hard. “Are you from here?”

“Gracetown? Yeah, my m-mom’s family’s from here, but my dad’s family’s from this little town in Virginia.” Liam explains. “We sometimes visit in the summer. You said you have three sisters, are they older or younger?”

“Well, one’s older, and the other two are younger.” Zayn says. “You?”

“I’ve g-got two older sisters, Nicola and Ruth. You’ll meet them tomorrow, they’re probably asleep by now.” Liam says, and Zayn nods. He realizes too late that Liam probably can’t see him. “What’s your favorite song?”

Zayn narrows his eyes. “What’re you asking for?”

“Well, you said I ‘don’t even know you’, so this is me trying to get to know you.” Liam explains, and Zayn laughs, his voice a bit rough.

“If you actually want to get to know me, you’re going to need some better questions. Because that one sucked.”

Liam makes an offended little noise and kicks some snow at Zayn. “Fine.” Liam is quiet for a moment; Zayn knows he’s thinking of a question. “What’s your idea of a perfect day?”

“Wow, good one.” Zayn says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Liam bumps his shoulder. “Well…”

 _Today_ was supposed to be a perfect day. Zayn was supposed to _relax_ , all curled up in a blanket with a cup of tea until Louis’s party, where he’d planned to get a little buzzed and then head home and go to bed. Tomorrow, he was supposed to open his presents with his sisters and then go to his aunt’s house for lunch, and to his grandmother’s for dinner.

“It would be something like… spending the day reading under a blanket, with a cup of tea and someone to cuddle with, and then we’d watch some Christmas movies and fall asleep in front of the fire.” Zayn says. Yeah. That would be quite the perfect day.

“Sounds _boring_.” Liam says bluntly. “Sounds like you’ve already done it.”

Zayn’s jaw drops. “How’d you know that?”

“You just told meee,” Liam sings.

Zayn frowns and tries to think of another perfect day. “ _Fine_. A day spent at the beach, swimming and reading in comfy beach chairs, and then back to the house for a big lunch. Then we’d go back to the beach, swim some more, maybe take a walk, and then head back to the house again. I’d shower, and then skate for a while until dinner’s ready, and then eat and go out for some ice cream. We’d spend a really long time outside on the deck after we get back, talking and laughing with a few beers and all our friends. Is that better?”

Zayn has done that, but with Harry and Louis and a few friends from high school after they graduated.

“Yes. It is. Thank you.” Liam says, sounding smug.

“Well?” Zayn asks after a moment. “What’s yours?”

“Hmm,” Zayn tugs his blanket closer around him as Liam thinks. “I’ve always wanted to go to New Zealand, and spend the day looking at all the places they filmed Lord of the Rings in, y’know? Like, the Shire, and all that stuff? I really want to see that. And then go back to some little cabin near a lake and spend the night on the porch under the stars. Maybe some skinny dipping in the lake, too, it depends.” Liam says.

“Sounds like it’d be wicked.” Zayn grins.

“Your turn, ask me something.”

Zayn cocks his head, thinking. “Alright. You’ve got one month to live. Who do you tell, and what do you do?”

“Wow. Okay, um… I think I’d tell my family and friends, and I’d spend a little while writing them each letters, and then I’d just blow all my savings on some big trip to Europe and spend almost all of my time there, and then I’d come back for the last night. I’d spend it with my mom. Just talking.” Liam says softly, and Zayn smiles. Liam’s so kind, and lovely, he’s unbearably lovely.

“Mine would be somewhat of the same, especially with the mom part. It’s easier to appreciate your mom for every little thing when you don’t see her except for holidays.” Zayn agrees. “So I think I’d owe her that, to spend those last few nights together.”

“What’s the kindest thing you’ve ever seen someone do? Or the kindest thing you’ve ever done?” Liam asks.

Zayn raises his eyebrows. “Well, my friend Harry, he’s absolutely the nicest guy I’ve ever met. One time, we were driving around with our other friend, Louis, and some drunk asshole drove into us and we crashed. We were all okay, but Harry’s arm landed in a bunch of glass and got all slashed up, and he had to go to the ER. It seemed like we waited forever, and there was this kid there with a sprained ankle or something and he was sitting on his dad’s lap, and the kid, he wasn’t, like, _crying_ , but there were tears, y’know? Like, quiet ones. So when they called Harry’s name, Harry told them to let the kid go first, even though Harry’s shirt was all bloody, and there was fucking glass in his arm and he was probably in a lot of pain. It was just a really heartwarming thing to see.”

“The kindest thing I’ve ever seen was when- well, last year, my friend Andy was over, and there was an accident with the heater, he was trying to put gas in it, and he caught on fire, and it was- it was so scary, and I got him out, and he went to the hospital with third degree burns and everything- he looked _awful_.” Liam’s voice is quiet. “His girlfriend and I were there the whole time he was in the hospital, and he was- he was just _so sad_ \- it took a week to get him to look in the mirror. And the whole time he was trying to work up the guts to look, his girlfriend was telling him how wonderful he is, how great he still looks. It made me really happy to see her love him so unconditionally.”

“Aw.” Zayn smiles to himself.

“‘s your turn.”

“Gimme the thing you want most for Christmas.”

“Right now?” Liam asks, huffing a dry laugh. “A really warm, thick pair of fuzzy socks.”

Zayn laughs. “I want a space heater that follows me around.”

Liam laughs, and then they fall silent again. Reaching one freezing cold hand into his pocket, Zayn pulls out his phone and clicks it on. The only notification is a text from Louis, asking why he’s not there.

“W-why do you keep checking your p-phone?” Liam asks, sounding a bit irritated.

Zayn puts his phone back in his pocket, coughing. “I was, uh, I was checking for a call.”

“A call from?” Liam presses.

“I… Aiden.”

Liam’s quiet for a moment. “Who… who’s Aiden?”

“My boyfriend. Well, he was, up until a few months ago.” Zayn exhales and watches his breath go up in a puff of steam.

“Is that who you got sad over earlier? The ‘someone’ you were thinking of?” Liam asks.

“Yeah, thats him.” Zayn nods. “It’s… our anniversary.”

“Of your breakup, or of when you got together?” Liam asks, loud enough so Zayn can hear but soft enough that he still sounds concerned, and god, he’s so lovely.

“When we got together.” Zayn explains. “And I know it’s dumb, trust me. But, like, for some crazy reason I’m still finding myself hoping he’ll call and tell me he feels as bad as I do.”

Liam is quiet as they approach the dead end of the street, leading to a thin forest of evergreens and spruces and a whole bunch of other trees that look like they should have ornaments and a star on top. Turning his head, Zayn sees Liam raise his eyebrows, and he nods. They step over the curb, and into the snowy forest. Zayn can see animal prints in the snow, and wonders where the deer that made them is sleeping. He read somewhere that they sleep under pine trees, but he doesn’t want to check and be met with an angry buck.

“I was always checking my phone though, even when we were together. Always waiting for him. Cause, like, Aiden was always so busy being that bright, beautiful star he was, and I was just… me.” Zayn shugs.

Liam’s voice cuts through the silence after a moment, sincere and kind and melancholy. “Don’t say ‘ _just me_ ’ like that, alright? Anybody’d be lucky to have you.”

Zayn’s not used to hearing things like that, and he’s a little taken aback by it. By the time he realizes he’s being rude, it’s too late to thank him.

“Is- would it be too invasive of me to ask what happened?” Liam asks tentatively.

“Yeah. I think it would be.” Zayn says quietly.

“I- sorry.”

They walk in silence for a moment, until Zayn works up the courage to ask, “Who’s picture’s in your wallet?”

Liam takes a minute to answer. “My girlfriend.”

“Does she dislike your invasiveness too?” Zayn asks, hoping to get a laugh out of Liam.

Liam doesn’t laugh. “Fuck off.”

Zayn tears at the dry skin on his bottom lip and doesn’t say anything else. The trees start to thin out again, and soon the distance between the boys and what Zayn assumes is Liam’s house is somewhere around 300 yards. A sharp decline begins, but before they can get far down, Liam stops them.

“Right, so there’s a creek here, and like, it’s solid, I saw kids skating on it earlier, but we don’t have to cross it if you don’t want to. It’s just quicker, ‘cause my house is right there, and- yeah.” Liam points to the house directly across the creek and the stretch of snow.

Zayn cocks his head. “I’ll still do it, c’mon.”

“Okay…” Liam says, but he doesn’t make any moves to proceed, just looks at Zayn to make sure it’s okay.

“Go for it, Li.”

Liam starts the descent to the creek, and Zayn follows him. There’s a definite change in the way it feels to walk on the ice; there’s more of a slippery feeling than a dry, hard one. Taking careful steps, Zayn follows a few feet behind Liam. They take it slowly, each step a test of the ice.

“This is a bit terrifying, I’ll admit it.” Liam says, his voice shaky.

Zayn agrees wholeheartedly. “Yeah, a bit.”

As they approach the middle, Zayn hears a loud noise, like the crack of a whip. Liam seems to hear it too, because he stops and looks back at Zayn.

“What was that?” Zayn asks, eyebrows furrowed.

“No i-”

And then they fall through. There’s a great whoosh of air, and then Zayn and Liam are both up to their chests in cold water. Zayn’s never fallen into a frozen creek before, and there are a few things he notices: one, every cell in his body feels like it has just been put into the freezer; two, the numb feeling that overcomes him is quite painful; and three, the feeling of his boots filling with ice cold water is not one he’d ever like to experience again, thanks.

A little noise comes out of Liam’s mouth, and that’s what brings Zayn back to reality. Apparently, it’s a lot harder to hoist yourself out of water and back onto ice than it looks like in the movies. First, there’s nothing to grab onto, meaning they practically have to roll back into the ice. Second, your muscles seem to have turned into jelly. They don’t want to move. At all. This makes the remainder of the walk a little difficult for Zayn and Liam.

A shaking hand reaches out and grabs Zayn’s wrist once they’ve made it up the hill. He drags Zayn along slowly, both of them trembling violently. Zayn’s breath comes in short bursts, and his heart is beating increasingly fast.

It seems to take ages to reach the house, but they get there eventually. It’s not too small, or too big, with multicolored Christmas lights strung up on the roof and a star hanging in the window. There’s too much fog on the window for Zayn to be able to see inside, but he doesn’t mind: fog means it’s warm in there. Liam crouches down and reaches into the snow, feeling around for something.

He stands after a moment, and Zayn realizes he was probably looking for a key. It takes a moment for Zayn to open the door, but they make it inside and into the glorious warmth. Liam shuts the door behind Zayn and takes his wrist again, pulling him into a bathroom and shoving him into the shower. He pulls Zayn’s bag off his back, and then the dripping wet blanket, turns on the water, and looks at Zayn.

“G-get warm, I’ll be in t-the o-other one.” Liam says, and Zayn can hear his teeth chattering.

Zayn nods far too late, and he bends over to untie his boots with frigid fingers. After he’s peeled off his frozen clothing he leaves them in a pile on the tile floor and sits on the shower floor, with his knees pulled up to his chest. The water pressure gets a bit lower a minute or so into the shower, and Zayn guesses that it’s Liam in the other shower. Zayn continues to turn the water higher until it starts to hurt, and he only gets out when it’s out of hot water.

There’s a pile of clothes and a fluffy blue towel waiting for him on the counter, and Zayn’s surprised that someone was in the bathroom while he was and he didn’t even notice. Zayn takes the towel- it’s been heated, for Christ’s sake- and wraps it around himself. The little bathroom is filled with steam; Zayn can hardly see out of the window.

Once he’s dried off, Zayn looks through the clothes that have been left for him. He picks up a pair of gray sweatpants with fleece inside, a pair of plaid boxers, and a red long-sleeved shirt. There’s also a pair of black socks, and a maroon hoodie with some team logo on it. Zayn pulls on the boxers and the socks first, and then the long-sleeved shirt, the pants, and finally, the gloriously warm hoodie. He tugs the hood over his head and opens the door.

Stepping outside, Zayn wanders around until he finds the kitchen, where a woman with shoulder-length blond hair is bustling about, pulling food out of the fridge. When she sees Zayn, she promptly shoves a mug of hot chocolate into his hands and leads him to a seat. Zayn pulls his hood down; he thought it’d just be him and Liam and it feels rude to have it up when he’s a guest.

“Hello, dear. I’m Liam’s mom, Karen.” She says, smiling at Zayn. Her smile is kind and genuine, and her eyes crinkle at the corners just like Liam’s. “Drink up, it’ll warm you up.”

Zayn smiles. “Thank you so much for letting me-”

“Oh, it’s no trouble, Zayn. Liam’s already explained the whole situation.” Karen reassures him, taking a mug of soup out of the microwave and putting it in front of Zayn. “I bet you wish you’d taken the long way, huh?”

“Yeah, definitely.” Zayn picks up a spoon from the table and takes a spoonful of the soup. It’s good; classic chicken soup.

Karen takes a turkey wrapped in tinfoil out of the oven, and puts a few pre-sliced pieces on a plate, then adds mashed potatoes, gravy, and green beans to the plate. She hands it to Zayn with a fork and another smile.

“My husband Geoff and the girls, Ruth and Nicola, are all asleep upstairs, but you’ll meet them tomorrow. And Liam should be down soon, but in the meantime, would you like to call your parents?” Karen asks. “You phone’s still in rice from your little swim, but you can use my phone.”

Zayn looks up from his plate, mouth full of mashed potatoes. “Yes please.”

“Here you go.” She hands Zayn her phone and leaves the room to give him privacy.

Zayn turns the phone over; the case is a picture of Karen, Liam, a large, kind-looking man with a moustache, and two pretty girls with light blond hair. They must be Liam’s sisters. Unlocking the phone, Zayn dials his mom’s number and calls. She picks up after a few rings.

“Hello?” Zayn’s shoulders sag at the sound of his mother’s voice.

“Mom? It’s Zayn.”

“Hello, dear. Are you at your grandparents’? Tricia asks,

Zayn chews on his lip. “Not exactly…” He explains his situation.

His mom doesn’t say anything for a minute after Zayn’s explained how the train got stuck, he went to a diner with a stranger, how he agreed to stay at said stranger’s house, how they fell in the creek, and how he’s currently eating a proper Christmas dinner in the stranger’s kitchen. Well, not a stranger. Liam’s kitchen. Liam is not a stranger. Technically. Mostly. “Well… can I talk to this ‘ _Liam’s_ ’ mother?”

“Sure…” Zayn looks around the kitchen. “Um, Mrs. Payne? My mom wants to talk to you.”

Karen is back in the kitchen in seconds. “Of course, here.”

She leaves again, and Zayn puts his head down on the table. Of course his mom has to confirm that he’s not staying at a crack house or something. He shovels another forkful of mashed potatoes into his mouth, straining to try to hear what Karen’s saying. Karen comes back a minute or so later, and hands the phone back to Zayn with a smile.

“Alright…” Tricia says slowly. “I’ve talked to his mother, and she’s going to take good care of you. Are you warm enough? She said you were in a hot shower for a while.”

“Yeah, I’m alright now. Liam’s given me some of his clothes, and it’s really cozy in here.” Zayn explains.

“Okay, dear.” There’s another voice on the line, saying something to Tricia. It sounds like Yaser. “Alright, we’ve got to go, the hotel room’s finally available.”

“Alrght, see you soon, Ma. Tell Doniya I said hi, okay?”

“Will do.” Tricia says. “Happy Christmas, Zayn. I’m so sorry it turned out this way-”

Zayn interrupts her before she can start crying. “I’m gettin’ off the phone, Mom, before I start cryin’.” He laughs.

“Alright, alright. Love you.”

“You too, Mom.”

Tricia hangs up, and Zayn puts the phone on the table. Karen returns a moment later, carrying two blankets. She hands one to Zayn, and drapes the other one over a chair.

“Here you are, Zayn. Your mom wants me to keep you nice and warm, and I promised I would, so.” Karen says.

Zayn spreads the blanket over his legs. “Thanks for everything, Mrs. Payne.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble.” She says, warming up what Zayn assumes is Liam’s hot chocolate.

Liam comes in as Zayn finishes his soup, dressed in blue plaid pajama pants with the name of his high school on the leg, and a dark gray hoodie with his own soccer team’s name and his last name and number on the sleeve. The hood is pulled over his hair, which is wet and sticking out at odd angles.

“Liam, get that off your head, we’re eating.” Karen says, frowning at Liam.

Liam looks pointedly at Zayn as he sits across from him. “My mother likes to tell me what to do a lot when I’m home from school. I think it’s ‘cause she thinks I’m wreaking havoc at college.”

Zayn laughs through his mouthful of food as Karen clicks her tongue and tugs Liam’s hood down. Then, Karen brings Liam his own plate of turkey, mashed potatoes, and gravy, which he digs into. The three of them sit and discuss their plans for the night.

“Are you sure you’ve got enough, Zayn? I could always heat up more, and we have a bit of stuffing in the fridge, if you want it?” Karen looks at Zayn with her eyebrows raised.

Zayn shakes his head. “Thank you, Mrs. Payne, but I’m alright.”

“And you’re warm enough?” Karen asks.

Zayn glances at Liam, who’s glaring at his mother. “Yeah, these socks are really warm, and so is everything else.”

“Mom, shouldn’t you be getting to bed? It’s almost one, and we don’t want to keep you up too late.” Liam stresses the last few words.

“Yeah, I think I’ll head up. Liam, make sure Zayn has everything he needs, okay?” Karen yawns.

“Thanks again for letting me stay, Mrs. Payne.” Zayn says sheepishly. “I’m sorry I’m ruining your Christmas.”

The look on Karen’s face would’ve been the same if Zayn had kicked a puppy. “Of course you’re not ruining our Christmas, dear, you’re not ruining anything! You’re ours to take care of, alright?” Karen asks, and she doesn’t stop looking at Zayn until he nods, a sheepish smile creeping up his face. “Li, make sure he’s got everything he needs; blankets, pillows, an extra pair of socks, whatever he wants, alright?”

“ _Yes_ , Mom.” Liam gives her a look.

“Alright, goodnight.” Karen presses a kiss to Liam’s forehead. “Make sure to turn the Christmas lights off.”

“Merry Christmas, Mrs. Payne.” Zayn calls after her, but she’s already gone.

The two of them spend a few minutes in a glorious, food-filled silence, absorbing the warmth of the space heater under the table and stuffing their faces. Once Zayn’s come up from his food for air, he finally takes a good look around the kitchen.

Multicolored lights are strung up over the window over the sink, and there’s a little golden Christmas tree with tiny decorations on it resting in the corner of the stainless steel counter. A sprig of mistletoe hangs in the archway into the corridor, and a tiny little Santa is sitting on the top of the fridge, like it’s watching them. His painted smile is a little creepy, if Zayn’s being honest.

“So I see you’ve located Mom’s extremely creepily-placed St. Nick.” Liam says conversationally.

“Yeah… interesting placement…” Zayn eyes the Santa warily.

“What do you think of our other decorations?” Liam asks, sitting back and crossing his arms.

Zayn smiles. “They’re just like mine: gaudy, bright, and over-the-top. My mom really likes to do Christmas in a big way, to fit in with all the other families in our neighborhood.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Liam nods. “My mom’s a bit crazy like that too. She kinda scares my friends.” He chuckles.

“Does she scare your girlfriend, too?” Liam’s face drops a bit, so Zayn tries to backtrack. “I-... sorry.”

Liam reaches for more turkey and doesn’t look up. “That’s alright.”

Zayn doesn’t say anything for a few minutes, chewing on the inside of his cheek. That’s twice now that he’s made a reference to Liam’s girlfriend, and Liam’s deflected it both times. He feels bad, like it’s something he should've known not to mention.

A minute later, Liam stands. “‘m going to go get your stuff for you to sleep on, I’ll be back in a minute.”

Zayn nods, and Liam wanders off. Once Zayn hears the pitter-patter of Liam’s feet on the stairs, he wanders around until he’s found the living room. It’s rather large, with a big fireplace with a crackling fire and a wreath over top of it, an elaborately decorated Christmas tree, a few couches, and, the real things that get Zayn’s attention: a Grand Piano and a Gibson acoustic guitar leaned up against the wall.

Sitting down at the bench, Zayn presses his foot down on the pedal to quiet it. He places his fingers on the smooth keys, and begins to play a tune he’s remembered since he was eleven, and he’s sure he’ll remember for far longer. He’d never be able to do the song justice, but he sings along anyway.

“ _Have yourself a merry little Christmas._

_Let your heart be light._

_From now on, our troubles will be out of sight_.”

He closes his eyes after a while; he knows how to play this song and knows he won’t mess it up.

“ _Hang a shining star upon the highest bough,_

_and have yourself_

_a merry little Christmas, now_.”

He plays the final keys, and is startled when he hears the sound of soft clapping. When Zayn turns, he sees that Liam is leaning against the wall with a soft smile on his face. There’s a pile of blankets and pillows at his feet, and his hood is pulled over his head again. Zayn’s cheeks heat up; he hasn't played in front of anyone in years. Almost as if he can see how embarrassed Zayn is, Liam begins setting up Zayn’s makeshift bed in front of the fire.

When the bed’s ready, Liam sits down on it with his knees close to his chest. “I’m sorry I went too far about Aiden.” He says quietly. “And for taking the shortcut.”

“It’s alright.” Zayn says, crossing the room to sit next to Liam on the bed. “I’m sorry, too. Must’ve been the cold and the snow.”

“I feel like a dick, Zayn, I’m really sorry.” Liam hangs his head.

Zayn bumps his shoulder, looking over at him. “It’s fine, Li. Really. I know you didn’t mean to be a dick.”

They fall silent, watching the fire in front of them. It crackles and pops and smells exactly like a fire should. A few times, Zayn thinks he sees Liam looking at him, but when he turns, Liam’s head is staring directly at the fire. Zayn thinks he’s probably imagining it, he’s probably overtired.

Some time later, Liam gets up. “I’m going to to go sleep, otherwise I’ll collapse on the floor.” He goes to turn the lights off, but Zayn stops him.

“Wait! I… I like the lights.” He says sheepishly.

“And so they shall stay on.”

Liam chuckles and ruffles Zayn’s hair on his way to the stairs. He pauses, though, on the first step.

“Merry Christmas, Zayn.”

“Merry Christmas, Liam.”

The sound of Liam’s footsteps recede until they’re completely gone, and Zayn’s left alone. It’s probably a bad decision when Zayn begins thinking of his family, and of Aiden, of what they’re doing now and if they’re even thinking of him at all, but it’s Christmas Eve and even though Zayn’s in a house full of kind, loving strangers who are really helping him, he’s never felt this alone on Christmas Eve.

Zayn falls asleep realizing that he’s just crashed into Liam’s family’s life on Christmas Eve, and he’s probably ruined their holiday.

In the morning, Zayn is woken up by the sounds of feet going down stairs, and the sound of a door opening and closing more than a few times. Once the house has gone silent again, Zayn sits up and looks out the window. There’s at least two feet of snow on the ground; a thick blanket of white covering every surface. Liam, dressed in sweatpants, his hoodie, and a pair of boots, is throwing snowballs at two girls who look to be a bit older than him, each with light blond hair, and eyes just like Liam’s. Karen is standing off to the side with a man with Liam’s big smile and a moustache just as large. The smile on Liam’s face is so big and genuine that Zayn’s sure if could light all the Christmas trees in the neighborhood.

A little while later, Mr. Payne and the two girls pile into their snow-covered car and leave. Zayn slides back into his makeshift bed and closes his eyes as the door opens again. It bangs against the wall in the foyer, and Karen makes a noise. Slowly, Zayn curls his hand around the piece of metal around his neck, the tiny little diamond-shaped charm that he holds so dearly, even though he knows he shouldn’t.

“Now you’ve gotten Ruth and Nicola all wet, and they’re going to be cold the entire time they’re out.” Karen is saying, and Liam groans.

“They’ll be fine, and keep your voice down! You’ll wake him up.”

“Oh. Right.”

Zayn realizes with a start that they’re talking about him. Karen and Liam go into the kitchen, after Karen says something about getting his breakfast ready.

“‘m going to go put on something dry, I’ll be back in a second.”

Liam’s footsteps recede up the stairs, and Zayn decides it’s time to officially wake up. He stands up, cracks his back, and pads into the kitchen on quiet, socked feet. When Karen sees him, she pulls him into a hug.

“Good morning, dear. Sleep well?” She asks, striding to the counter and returning with a cup of coffee and thrusting it into Zayn’s hands.

“Yeah, really great.” Zayn says, holding the warm mug close to his chest. He sits down, and a plate of chocolate chip pancakes is placed in front of him. He can’t help but feel bad; it’s his fault that Karen had to make an extra cup of coffee, and extra set of pancakes, an extra set of laundry. “I-... uh, sorry, again, Mrs. Payne. For busting in on your Christmas.”

Karen gives him a look. “Oh, shush.” She waves a hand at him. “I think it’s wonderful that you’re here.”

Zayn feels his cheeks heat up as he takes a bite of his pancakes.

“I haven’t seen Liam this genuinely happy since Lily.” Karen says, taking a sip of her own coffee. “He told you what happened with Lily, right?”

"I- uh, yeah, he did.” Zayn says, because if Liam asks, he doesn’t want to have to tell him that his own mother spilled the beans.

“It was just awful. It really was.” Karen says quietly. “But,” She starts, smiling at Zayn. “I did see some of the old Liam last night, a Liam I haven’t seen in quite a while. The Liam he was with you.”

Zayn’s fork freezes halfway into his mouth.

He doesn’t know what to think of that.

But then Karen’s changing the subject, and Zayn has no choice but to overlook it. “‘scuse me for a moment, Zayn, ‘m going to go get dressed and then head out to meet Geoff and the girls.”

She heads upstairs, and Zayn goes back to his pancakes. He’s almost finished them when Liam comes in, dressed in pajamas and a dry hoodie. Liam smiles when he sees Zayn, a beautiful smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners. And then his smile goes away, and he looks worried.

“You look pale, are you okay?” Liam asks, genuinely concerned. He puts a hand on Zayn’s shoulder before sitting across from him. “Did my mom scare you?”

Zayn laughs a little too hard, and ends up choking on his pancakes.

Five minutes later, the two of them are curled up under blankets (one each, to Zayn’s dismay) on the couch in the living room. Zayn’s been studying the line of Liam’s jaw for quite some time now, the way his stubble makes it look even _more_ defined. He notices a little birthmark on Liam’s neck, and is filled with the overwhelming urge to kiss it. But then Liam’s turning to him, and words are coming out of his mouth.

“D’you want to watch a movie? There’s a shitload on today.” Liam grabs the remote from the table and turns on the tv.

Zayn chews on the inside of his cheek again. “It feels so weird… not having anything to do… Usually on Christmas we’re at my aunt’s, and then at my cousin’s… just relaxing feels…”

“Beautiful? Wonderful? Amazing?” Liam supplies.

“Beautiful.” Zayn nods, and both of them laugh.

 _A Christmas Story_ is playing all day, so neither of them feel guilty watching _It’s a Wonderful Life_ instead. Zayn spends one half of the movie trying not to seem like he’s crying (because he is, this movie is his one true weakness), and the other half working up the courage to ask about this Lily. It’s only when the credits begin to roll that Zayn is able to speak.

“So… uh… w-what happened with Lily?” He asks slowly.

Liam’s face darkens, and his smile disappears. “Well… she was my girlfriend for almost two years. We met in college, and really, like, hit it off right away. I’m on the soccer team at my school, and she’s working with some aspiring fashion designer or something like that, so we were both really busy. Anyway, there was always this one friend that I always saw her with, some guy named Ben or something, and I always felt a little… I dunno, jealous of him.

“So one day, I got done practice, and Lily was supposed to be in some class, so I went to get coffee. And when I ordered, the barista, this girl Danielle, game me this really sad look, and glanced at the bathroom. I didn’t know why she was doing that, so I ignored it and paid for my coffee. Now, there’s something very weird about the bathroom in that coffee shop. There’s only one. No men’s or women’s, just one. So I was drinking my coffee in one of the comfy chairs, on my laptop, and out come Lily and fucking _Ben_ , from the bathroom.

“So I stood up, and went up to her, and we had this big fight in front of half the campus, and d’you know what she said to me? She had been fucking some guy behind my back for _months_ , and _she_ told _me_ that _I_ had been distant.” Liam’s eyebrows furrow, and he looks at Zayn, whose mouth has been hanging open for the last few seconds.

“I’m… really sorry.” Zayn says slowly.

Liam shrugs. “What was Aiden like?”

Zayn sighs. “Well... he was smart, beautiful, popular, the whole package.”

“No,” Liam frowns. “What was he actually like?”

Zayn’s eyebrows furrow as he tries his hardest to criticize him. “He was… too busy… too bright… too _much_. He never had time for me.”

“He sounds like an asshole, honestly.”

“Shut up.” Zayn says, because he’s thinking. He’s thinking of all the times Aiden told him he couldn’t come over because he was going to some club meeting, or to some stupid thing he always had to do. All the times he blew Zayn off to talk to his other, cooler friends. And it makes Zayn think that maybe he _was_ an asshole.

“I… Can I have a second?” Zayn looks around, his heartbeat quickening.

Liam stands. “Up the stairs and to the left is my room, go ahead.”

Zayn takes the stairs two at a time, and sits himself on Liam’s bed. He grips the little charm on his necklace, so hard he feels it digging into his palm. Looking up at the window, Zayn makes a decision. He’s done with hanging on to some twisted fantasy of Aiden calling him and saying he wants to get back together, of them being just the way they used to be, which was never really anything at all. Zayn crosses the room in a few strides, and shoves the window open.

He undoes the necklace from around his neck, and throws it as hard as he can into the snow.

A few minutes later he goes back downstairs, where Liam is sitting on the counter, taking his phone out of a bowl of rice. He hands it to Zayn with a tentative smile.

“Try and turn it on, the rice helps sometimes.” Liam says.

So Zayn does, and he’s only the tiniest bit disappointed to see that there’s no missed calls, even though he knows he shouldn’t be.

“I-I got rid of it.” Zayn says. “The necklace Aiden gave me. I threw it into the snow.”

With a little smile, Liam slides off the counter for a hug. On a whim, a crazy, idiotic whim, Zayn steps forward and presses their lips together. It catches Liam by surprise, but he relaxes in seconds. Big hands wrap around Zayn’s waist, pulling him close. Liam’s mouth is warm and wet, and Zayn can taste the coffee that lingers on his tongue from earlier. Zayn closes his eyes just as his phone rings.

They separate quickly, embarrassed, and Zayn sees that it’s from his mom.

“Hey, Mom.” He answers.

“‘m gonna go shower.” Liam says quickly, leaving.”

Zayn swallows nervously.

“Merry Christmas, Zayn!” He hears his sisters yell.

Laughing, Zayn says, “You too, girls! Get anything good?” He asks.

“Dunno, Mom left everything at home.” Doniya’s voice comes through.

“Oh, that sucks. Can you put her on for me?” He asks.

“Sure.” Doniya says, and then he hears Waliyha’s voice.

“MOM! ZAYN WANTS TO TALK TO YOU!”

A few seconds later, he hears his mom’s exasperated laughter. “Hello, dear. Everything alright?”

“Yeah, everything’s great. The family I’m with is really wonderful.” Zayn says, nodding.

“Good, good. I’m so sorry we can’t all be together today, all of us really feel awful.” Tricia says.

Zayn smiles. “It’s really fine, Mom. I’m having a good time.”

“If you say so,” She sings, and Zayn laughs. “Listen, we’ve got to go, but have a wonderful day, love. I’ll see you soon!”

“Alright, Mom. Love you.”

“You too!”

The line goes dead, and Zayn slides his phone into his pocket. A very melancholy feeling slides over Zayn, and he decides he shouldn’t be infringing on the Paynes’ Christmas anymore. He's not their responsibility. He knows it's not right to leave without saying anything to Liam, especially after they've just kissed, but it's also not right to make Karen and Liam and his family take care of another child. 

His bag, clothes, and boots are all in the laundry room, so Zayn changes into his own clothes from last night and slings his bag over his shoulder. He neatly folds Liam's clothes and leaves them in a pile on top of the dryer (even if he's running away, he still has _manners_ , of course). 

And then he leaves through the back door, shoving at least two feet of snow out of the way before he can slip through the door. It's bright outside, that kind of blinding brightness that always occurs when it snows. Zayn's mom used to tell him it was from the sun reflecting off the surface of the snow. The snow is still the soft, powdery substance it was last night, but that doesn't make any easier to walk through it. 

He's just gotten down Liam's ice and snow-covered steps when he discovers another problem: he can't go the way they came, because he doesn't really want to take another dip in the frozen creek. Not that he could've gone that way anyway, as their tracks have been completely covered by the snow. His safest choice was to follow the roads, and hope they'd lead him to the Waffle House, and then to his train. 

Of course, things never work out that easily for Zayn.

Liam's neighborhood, it seems, doesn't follow any sort of grid or logic that the neighborhoods in Aeltown follow. The streets are winding and random, as if whoever'd designed the place just closed their eyes, drawn some lines, and mapped out the roads like that. 

As Zayn walks through the neighborhood, he has plenty of time to contemplate what he's just done. How is he supposed to explain why he left the Paynes' to his mom? She's going to be furious- but then again, she's always mad at him for something, it seems. What is Karen going to think? Probably that Zayn just took their food and warmth and then skipped out. 

And then there was Liam.

Kind, witty, obliging Liam, who took Zayn into his home without a second thought. The Liam who smiles when Zayn says stupid things, the Liam whose eyes crinkle at the corners when he laughs, the Liam who Karen's supposedly not seen in a very long time. Still, he doesn't blame Liam for running for the shower after Zayn kissed him- it was rash, and stupid, and... _wonderful_. 

It takes a few streets for Zayn to realize that he doesn't regret letting go of Aiden. He's regretting _Liam_. Liam, who saved him from freezing in an icy creek. Liam, who actually wanted to talk to him. Liam, who isn't "too busy." Liam, who said anyone would be lucky to have him, and not to sell himself short. 

And now, if Zayn gets back to his train and goes to his grandparents, he'll never see Liam again. 

Unless he just ends up back at his house. Which, after some time, is starting to seem like a very real possibility. He's been wandering the neighborhood for when feels like hours, and every time he stops to knock on someone's door and ask for directions, they seem more concerned about why he's outside than about getting him to his destination.

Soon, when Zayn's legs feel like jelly and he's about to flop into a pile of snow Liam finds him.

“You’ve been going the wrong way for a while, you know.” Liam’s voice is the only sound on the silent street.

Zayn turns around. “I... I’m sorry, Liam, but I’m not your family’s problem. You shouldn’t have to deal with me. I’m going to get back to my train, and head to my grandma’s.”

“You,” Liam says incredulously. “are so _stupid_.”

Zayn raises his eyebrows.

“Can’t you tell that _I want you here_? Did I not make that clear?” Liam asks.

“Not when you ran away after I kissed you, no.”

“I was trying to give you and your mom _privacy_ , oh my god.”

"Well I didn't very well seem like it." Zayn snaps. 

"Don't... don't do that. put yourself down like that. It's not like I didn't _like_ kissing you." Liam says back.

And then Zayn’s phone rings again, and Liam groans. Zayn takes it out of his jacket pocket, and almost chokes on air when he sees who it is.

Aiden Grimshaw.

Slowly, Zayn clicks ignore and steps towards Liam.

And then he kisses him. _Hard_.


End file.
